Readers write: Feathered friends, nuclear news, and poetry reflection
May 11, 2019
1 minute
Feathered friends
I live in Redondo Beach, a suburban town on Santa Monica Bay. Thus, my little murder of crows is not as grand as the one in Murr Brewster’s April 1 Home Forum essay, “We are observed.” Nevertheless, the One day, after much unremitting raucous crow clamor, I wandered out to see what was up. A dozen crows lined the wires across the street, their focus on the gutter at my feet. A dead crow. “She’s dead,” I hollered. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. There’s nothing I can do.”I wrapped the late tribe member in a trash bag and took it off. They decided it was finished and departed.
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